Valentines Day Dare
by Life-Drawing-Wizard
Summary: Lovina is dared to throw a Valentines day party and invite all the nations. Can she really help all these freak shows solve their really weird love lives? Rated T for South Italian Mafia, French people, Awesomeness and Innuendoes.
1. Truth or Dare

A/N:_Welcome to my Valentines-palooza! I will officially be featuring: Spamano, Prucan and UsUk, all other pairings to be decided! So...um...suggestions or comments or snide remarks or questions or any sort of feedback, really would be appreciated._

_Also, I don't own the wonderfulness that is Hetalia in any way shape or form, because if I did...bad things would happen._

**Warning: Genderbending Ahead**

_~~~~~~~~Prologue~~~~~~~~_

_~~ Truth or Dare ~~_

It started with a random present from Francis and a game of truth or dare.

Gilbert had invited himself over (as per usual) dragging his reluctant brother and a not-so-reluctant Felicia, plus Francis, for whatever reason. (Lovina strongly suspected he just wanted to drink his own wine, but she wasn't entirely certain he hadn't drugged it, so she let him.)

Once Gilbert and Francis were sufficiently intoxicated and Ludwig was in a marginally better mood, someone (read: Antonio, the bastard) suggested truth or dare.

Antonio was forced to admit he hated German beer, Felicia weaseled a kiss from Ludwig and Gilbert had to kiss Francis.

Then Lovina was staring into blue eyes and Francis asked with a smirk "Truth…or dare?" (somehow succeeding to make it sound pervy.)

The word 'truth' was almost out of her mouth, but the mischevious look on the Frenchman's face made her reconsider.

If she chose dare, she would probably have to kiss the wino.

Or, worse, kiss the Potato Bastards! At the same time!

But truth could be revealing embarrassing facts about her and Antonio's…relationship.

Lovina groaned as Francis called "Five seconds~!"

If this would be her end, she wanted to go down by her own Italian mafia controlling hands!

"Tr-DARE!"

Wait! No! She didn't mean that!

Shit, that look in his eyes was not comforting, in any sense of the word.

"Throw a Valentines day party."

"I WON'T KISS YOU- wait, what?"

Francis grinned, "Throw a Valentines party. And you have to invite all the countries you don't like. Which is everyone."

"Ve~ _Sorella_!" Felicia exclaimed, "That would be so much fun! Can Luddy and I come? We can come right? Right? Right? Rightrightrightrightright? You'd invite us, right? Rightrightrightrightrightrig ht-?"

As Ludwig tried to get Felicia to "Stop talking, ja, I'd love to have pizza with you on Valentines but your sister looks ready to explode or pass out. Ja, I love you to. Ja, Gilbert will probably come. Nein, he can't stay home, I don't want my house destroyed. Again. Nein, explosives are very bad-." Lovina did a fantastic impersonation of a drowning fish.

Gilbert started giggling as he nursed his beer (a feat in and of itself).

"Valentines day?" the albino snickered, "Isn't that all romantic and luvvy-duvvy and pink and so-sweet-my-teeth-rot and shit?"

Felicia nodded enthusiastically, "Ve~, that pretty much covers it!"

"And what does the angry, PMSy bitch know about being romantic?" Gilbert demanded.

That snapped Lovina out of her stupor.

Logic said she shouldn't respond.

Logic (and everything else in the world) was saying that Gilbert was an egotistical ass.

Logic was saying he just wanted a rise out of her-

Screw logic.

Lovina jumped to her feet, glaring at the former nation.

"What bitch can't be romantic?" she demanded.

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "You, duh."

"I can be romantic! I'm the southern half of Italy, dammit!" she shouted.

Antonio nodded in a way that said he knew just exactly how romantic she could be, but Lovina kicked the Spaniard in the gut before he could say anything.

The albino sneered, "Then prove it. I dare you to play matchmaker. All that UST we have to endure every world meeting? Fix it."

Challenge accepted.

"Fine."

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Later the next morning as everyone was leaving (finally).

"Ve~ Sorella! When will this Valentine's day party be?" Felicia asked as she bounced up and down.

"February 14th, stupid," Lvina grumbled, she still wasn't totally on board with this whole 'party' thing. But, as Antonio and Francis and Gilbert _and _Felicia (Ludwig was too busy being the giant gel ball of awkwardness that he is to comment) reminded her, it was a dare, so she had to.

"Does it have to be that day~? I have plans, can you move it?" Felicia asked, surprising her sister.

Lovina looked confused before rolling her eyes, "No, it's a VALENTINE'S DAY party, idiota. Thereby, VALENTINE'S day."

"But Lovi~ Luddy invited me over for a fun evening~!"

"Keseseseseseseses~!"

"No! Felicia-!"

"WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, POTATO BASTARD?! DON'T YOU DARE PUT YOUR PERVERTY EYES ON _MIA SORELLA BELLA_, OR I WILL HURT YOU, HEAR ME! STAY AWAY FROM HER BEFORE I SIC THE MAFIA ON YOU!"

"I was only going to have dinner..."

"Sure, West." Prussia shoved him and winked.

"It will be okay, _mí tomate_..." Antonio whispered, currently resting his head on Lovina's shoulder while he hugged her from behind. More like tried to wind as much of himself around her waist as humanly possible, but whatever.

"Get off... You... You... Tomato."

"Tomato?"

"Bastard."

"A little late, Lovi..."

Francis would have giggled at all the _l'amour,_ except normal men didn't giggle. However, Francis wasn't a normal man. So he giggled anyway.

Lovina seemed to be the only one who heard it and it disturbed her so much she crossed herself and promised never to mention the instance again lest it come back to haunt her.

"We'll be going now!" Francis called, his work for the morning (afternoon) done.

The four walked (Well, Gilbert was dragged, Francis sort of sashayed and Felicia was trying to skip and ride piggyback on Ludwig at the same time. Ludwig was walking though) towards their cars.

Lovina slumped against Antonio once their cars were safely out of sight and could no longer cause any permanent damage to the small Italian's sanity.

"This is going to be one hell of a Valentines day," she groaned.


	2. American Coffee and Canadians

A/N: _Just so it's clear: I'm and American and I adore Starbucks, I just like making fun of my own nation from the point of view of other nations. It's fun._

**Warning: Genderbending Ahead**

_~~~~Chapter 1~~~~_

_~~American Coffee and Canadaians~~_

On any normal day at the world meeting, Lovina would cuss out some hotel staff, glare at The Wurst and call him 'Potato Bastard' at every interval, curse out some random nations (possibly of the Spanish or Portuguese variety) and successfully avoid Poland and Hungary (and occasionally Japan) who kept trying to cover her in glitter or put her in something pink and frilly, respectively.

However, today Lovina was so distressed by the prospect of inviting all these freak shows to a party or, worse, resolving all this so-massive-it's-crushing-me sexual tension made her insides want to come on the outside.

Really. They were friggin countries; you'd think they would get laid more often.

Who the hell was she supposed to start with, anyway?

Lovina had even forgotten to yell at the Potato Bastard when he kissed her _sorella_ RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER (the nerve!).

This thought disturbed her so much she almost didn't notice the nation in front of her until they face-fived.

"Oh, maple! I'm so sorry, eh!"

Lovina was positive there hadn't been a person there a second before, but there was definitely someone apologizing profusely on the floor.

"I-It's okay, Lovina muttered, "I should have watched where I was going."

What? She could be nice sometimes, dammit!

…

Too nice, apparently.

Lovina wasn't sure how, but she was currently sitting in a Starbucks (stupid Americans. Thinking this was actually _coffee_. Blasphemy.) as the blonde nation (Canada, as she discovered) sobbed into her Maple Latte.

The Italian wondered just when, exactly, Starbucks or Americans in general had started serving maple flavored drinks (or maple anything, really) but decided not to ask.

"Sounds like you should just dump his ass," Lovina reasoned.

Matilda (Canada) looked at her with wide purple eyes.

"B-but what about F-francis?" Matilda hiccupped.

"If the French bastard doesn't give a shit, then neither should you," Lovina said defiantly.

Hey, she was kinda good at this love advice stuff.

Matilda looked unconvinced so the Italian continued.

"You're miserable when you're with him (I don't blame you, I would be too) and guilty when you're away. If you're not together anymore: Presto! No more heart ache."

Matilda nodded in resolution.

"All right. As soon as the meeting ends."

The Canadian sighed in relief as Lovina death glared at innocent baristas.

Damn American coffee. Friggin disgusting.

The Italian was so busy mentally cussing out the 'biscotti' ("Biscotti my ass. More like cardboard flavored crap.") this place was serving that she didn't notice the red eyes nuisance until Matilda squeaked "G-Gil!"

"Birdie!" Gilbert (AKA the Magic Ninja Prussian) exclaimed, "Where were you? You disappeared after the break and there was no one there to appreciate my awesome!"

Lovina chose not to comment on the fact that she was being totally ignored and Matilda was blushing furiously.

Interesting.

…

"So, basically, Canada is dating Francis but not anymore because she broke up with him and she like Gilbo?"

"Pretty much."

It had been a bitch to find an authentic Italian restaurant in this God forsaken country, but Lovina had finally found them a decent place for lunch.

Apparently, all those Italian mafia bases- er, _restaurants_ she had installed in America had been poisoned by fat people, cowboys and McDonalds.

Antonio was grinning at the Italian like a dumb-ass, but he always looked like a dumb-ass so Lovina didn't really mind, but she had principal to stand on.

"What?" the Italian demanded.

"You have sauce on your face," Antonio told her.

Lovina looked confused, "Where?"

Two very green, very Spanish, eyes were suddenly way too close.

"Right here," Antonio muttered, kissing her full on the mouth and making the Italian squeak.

"What was that for?" Lovina demanded as Antonio pulled away.

The Spaniard flashed her the Puppy Eyes and tried his best to grow wings and a halo, "I was getting the tomato sauce!"

"Like shit you were," the brunette rolled her eyes but tried her best to ignore the tingly feeling on her lips.

"Anyway, about this party shit," she started.

"Decorations!" Antonio interrupted.

"What?"

"Decorations!" The Spaniard repeated, "You need some!"

Lovina chewed on a meatball before rolling her eyes, "No shit, Sherlock. Thanks for that little insight. I know how to throw a party, dammit."

Antonio noted her cuteness and the Italian ignored him.

"So, I need, like, decorations or some shit. I don't know, hearts and pink? What do you think is romantic?" she asked finally.

"Tomatoes," Antonio said immediately.

Lovina considered this, "I don't think the others feel the same."

"_Mí tomate_..."

"Seriously, though, Antonio, what would set a romantic luvvy-duvvy gross stuff mood?"

"Dim the lights and light a lot of candles and play soft, slow music?"

"As appealing as that sounds, that seems like an invitation to be raped and molested."

A faint honhonhonhon~ was heard, almost like an echo from somewhere around them. Lovina shuddered visibly.

"Did you just hear that shit?"

"Good, it's not just me..."

"Do you think the wine bastard is…" they both glanced at the customers around them.

"Just forget about it…" Antonio said finally.

"So, at least we got the decorations planned?"

"What, the candles?"

"No, the tomatoes."

"But, Lovi~... You just said..."

"It'll just annoy the crap out of everyone more."

Antonio took a bite of his pizza and smiled dopely at Lovina, who was slurping pasta and thinking.

"I know what we're doing tonight!" she said finally.

The Spaniard's eyes lit up, "Really?"

"We're going grocery shopping," Lovina decided, finishing off the rest of her pasta.

Antonio deflated, "Oh. Okay then."

"We'll buy tomatoes too."

That made everything better, of course.


	3. Flower Talk

A/N: _UsUk! The truth is my best friend (who is absolutely fantastic, by the way) wrote like half of this chapter, it's kind of ridiculous. By the way, I realized while writing this chapter that I had originally wanted to keep Alfred a guy and genderbend Arthur, so I went back and fixed that._

_Guess who Alistair's marrying?_

**Warning: Genderbending Ahead**

_~~~~Chapter 2~~~~_

_~~Flower Talk~~_

"So, what do we need?"

"Tomatoes."

"_Other_ than tomatoes."

"…tomato soup?"

"Uh huh…anything else?"

"…tomato sauce?"

"…"

"…potatoes?"

"You did not just suggest that, bastard!"

Lovina slammed the notepad she was using to make them a grocery list on the table.

"That's it!" she exclaimed, grabbing her purse and storming to the door of their hotel room to get her shoes, "We're going!"

Antonio scrambled after her as the Italian stomped defiantly to the elevator and proceeded to murder the 'down' button by way of thumb-stabbing.

Stopping when the doors opened, Lovina glared at the metal contraption as though it had personally wronged her.

"Let's go curse out some grocery store employees," the Italian growled.

…

"Where to next?"

"Meats."

For some reason Lovina was in the cart along with the groceries (it had involved a conversation that went something like "But, Lovi, you're too big-" "Quit complaining and steer, slave!")

The poultry aisle was looking promising until the two nations caught wind of familiar voices.

"Ve~, but Luddy, I don't like wursts!"

"Felicia, we already got ten packs of hamburger meat for your pasta sauce and I don't think Gilbert can eat any more Italian sausage."

"Well okay…can you carry me? Ve~ I'm tired..."

"Stop right there, you ugly spud!" Lovina shouted, smirking triumphantly as she stood in her cart, squishing some squashes and pointing a finger accusingly at Ludwig, who had his hands almost five inches from Feli's waist (Too close for comfort). Lovina placed a hand on her hip and tossed back her dark brown hair.

The sudden weight change in the front of the cart caused it to lurch forward. Antonio threw himself on the back, trying to stop it from flipping over. This, in turn, led to the cart flipping the other way, launching a majority of its contents, including Lovina, onto Antonio.

They landed in a crumpled heap on the ground.

"Lovi! Are you hurt?" Antonio quickly grabbed her face, checked her pulse, felt her ribs, trying to make sure she was okay.

"Stop it! Stop! I'm fine! CUT IT OUT, YOU BASTARD!"

"Oh, okay..." Toni smiled dumbly at her.

"Will you let me go now?" Lovina asked after a few moments.

Antonio released the grip he had on her hips that was making the Italian turn a particular shade of red.

"Oh, um, of course…sorry…hehe…"

"_SORELLA, SORELLA,_ ARE YOU OKAY?! LUDDY, HELP HER! DO YOU NEED PASTA, VE~ LET'S GO HOME I'LL MAKE YOU SOME SPAGHETTI, _MIA SORELLA BELLA, MANGIA PASTA_-."

"Fels! Chill, sis!"

Ludwig somehow managed to lift the entire cart off the ground and into place with one arm, the other one holding back a small, excited auburn Italian, who was struggling against his thick arm.

"_Ciao, sorella_!" Feli called as the Potato pulled his Italian away, blushing furiously as Feli redirected her affectionate attention to nuzzling his arm like a cat.

Antonio gathered the miraculously unharmed products back into the cart.

"Oh, and I blame you for the cart tipping, bastard!" Lovina shouted after them, "If you had stayed away from _mia sorella_, none of this would have happened! So yeah, I hate you, look at your stupid face, those shoes were never in fashion, stay away from Felicia, and I hope you choke on a wurst and die. See you, loser!" she said, walking off with Antonio trailing behind.

"Did you see the Potato lift the cart? Geez, that's not normal. Friggin freak show."

She grabbed several loaves of Italian bread and put it in the cart. Antonio put some Cuban loaves in for good measure.

Antonio grabbed the cart and struggled with it for a second.

"What are you doing, idiota?"

He walked over and wrapped his arm around her waist and hoisted her up.

"What do you mean?" He asked, nonchalantly flexing his other arm.

"Are you…" She trailed off and laughed.

"I don't care if you're as strong as the potato jerk. I like you for the clueless, idiotic, stupid idiot you are," then Lovina quickly turned around before any comments on her likeness to a certain fruit could be made.

Toni beamed. Frickin beamed.

"And you smell like several dozen tomatoes barfed on you."

His smile flickered for only a moment.

"But Lovi~ you love _tomates_!"

"J-just shut up, b-bastard. And carry me. No way I'm getting back into that cart or walking."

He sighed as she jumped on his back and wrapped her arms around his neck, nestling her head into the crook of his neck and tightening her legs around his torso.

Her hair smelled like tomatoes and flowers.

"Well..."

"What?"

"Are you going to move, or are we going to stay in the bakery forever?!"

"Oh, of course!" He said, hoisting her up and pushing the cart somehow simultaneously.

"Hurry up. I'm hungry."

"We still have to go to produce."

"What for?"

"Tomatoes, of course."

Lovina had to get down soon though, as Antonio struggled with the plastic container for the fruit.

Useless bastard.

After several comments and comparisons of her face and the fruit in Antonio's hand, Lovina stomped her foot and mumbled something about the restroom.

"Wait here," Lovina said as she walked away toward the ladie's room.

"Oh yeah, and watch my purse," she walked back to thrust a bag into Antonio's arms before walking away again.

Antonio exhaled.

Yup, he was standing there.

Holding her purse.

He was so whipped it wasn't even funny.

"HAHA! Your hero has found the tea aisle for you!"

"You Americans have the strangest set-ups for stores..."

Antonio saw Alfred Jones and Alice Kirkland at the end of an aisle near him. He ducked behind an aisle ender advertizing family size assorted chips(!)

"How about…this?" The tall blonde man said, shaking a box at the short woman who pushed her blonde hair out of her face, tightened one long pigtail and straightened her glasses over eyes so green Antonio could see them from where he was standing.

"Iced Lipton? Really? How stupid ARE you?" She demanded, shoving it back on the shelf and grabbing several other boxes.

"I thought you wouldn't care, since, you know, what with your cooking and all I didn't think it really matter HOW it tastes..." He scratched the back of his head. Even Antonio could see how stupid he was to say this.

"My cooking is _delicious_." She said, shoving the boxes hard into his chest, making him lose his balance and storming off. Alfred blinked cluelessly.

Antonio facepalmed.

He quickly put the purse into his cart, pushed it behind a nearby flower stand, grabbed a bouquet of roses, white fading out to a white red, and walked forward.

"Toni, dude!" Alfred said upon recognizing him.

"Give these to her. Quickly, and apologize!"

"Um…uh…kay dude, but, why?"

"Just trust me," Antonio assured.

You didn't raise a temperamental Italian girl for centuries and not learn _anything_.

Antonio raced back to his cart quickly as Lovina came out.

The Spaniard motioned for her to follow him, shushing her and making the Italian raise an eyebrow.

"Alice!" Alfred called, racing down the aisle, until he saw the blonde and nearly ran her over in his excitement.

"What do you want?" She asked, glaring at him.

"Just, uh, sorry, and, uh, I saw these, um, flowers, and, um, they were pretty and, well, you're pretty and I, uh, thought of you, and so I thought I'd give 'em to you, you know, after I pay for them and stuff, and 'cause you like flowers, and, uh, I hope you like these flowers a lot."

He blushed, holding the bouquet out to her.

Alice looked at the flowers dumbly before turning a very dark shade of red that made Antonio think of a certain Italian and a fruit.

"T-those are roses," Alice stated.

Alfred nodded sagely, as if the Brit had just made a very profound observation.

Alice scowled suddenly glaring at the roses, "You don't give roses to just anyone, you twat. Think about your actions first and maybe you'll get somewhere in life."

The Brit stormed off towards the check out counter.

Alfred turned forlornly to Antonio, faking a smile and laughing awkwardly, "Guess I was too late, dude."

Antonio laughed awkwardly as well, "I was sure that'd work."

A tingle on the back of his neck alerted the Spaniard to the fact that he was being mentally stabbed to death.

It was a feeling he was rather accustomed to, if you'd believe.

Both Alfred and Antonio turned to face the blunt force of glaring Lovina.

"Jerk-fred," Lovina said, her voice deceivingly calm, "Are you and the angry eyebrows dating?"

Alfred looked confused, "No."

"Tomato bastard, did you tell him to give those roses?"

"Y-yes."

"Jerk-fred, Google what roses represent."

"Hold on…um…'unity, innocence and…love.' Oh. _Ohhhh_."

"B-but, Lovi-,"

Lovina facepalmed.

"You people need help," she said slowly.

Antonio's eyes widened, "You mean, you'll help them?"

The dark haired Italian sighed heavily, "Unfortunately. All right, bastards, let's do this."

They were half way to the exit before Lovina remembered something.

"After we pay for the groceries."

...

Someone was knocking on her hotel room door.

Well, not knocking, Alice considered. More like banging the living shit out of it.

Nuances.

When the door was released from it's pitiless assault it revealed a tall, blonde American with a hand behind his back and the other fixing his glasses.

"So, I'm sorry and I looked up this language of flowers you mentioned, and after finding out it's not some weirdo secret code, probably used by the illuminati…um, I got you this," he pulled a bouquet of yellow roses out from behind his back.

"They're yellow, because, well, you said we were only friends, haha, I mean, of course…and I had them keep the leaves on, because that stands for hope, like, I hope you forgive me and don't trust me on this, I just looked up some stuff on the internet."

He handed the roses to her.

"Also, don't worry, I had them remove the thorns, so, yeah, bye!" he said, blushing and running down the hall to elevator.

Alice stood there for a second, dumbfounded, before considering that putting the poor things in water would be the best option.

Unwrapping the roses and laying them out on the counter to cut the ends off, Alice heard a thunk as a packet and a little card landed by her feet.

The packet was the flower food stuff that dissolved in water and the card was one of those the florist gave out, explaining the language of flowers.

"Yellow for friendship and leaves for hope and…" the Brit paused as the phone started ringing.

"Thornless for love at first sight…"

Alice stood there dumbly, her heart doing a little happy flip before being pulled down into her stomach as her hopes sank.

Probably a mistake.

The phone rang loudly a couple more times before Alice answered it.

"Not now, Alistair, I'm emotionally compromised and about to drown myself in a pool of my own tears brought by self-induced, idiotic male stupidity! What in the bloody hell do you want?!"

Alice balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear as she pulled a few fake flowers out of a vase (stupid Americans and their plastic flowers.) and filled it with water.

Green eyes widened and she tried not to drop the vase as an over excited Scottish accent filled her ear.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE _ENGAGED_?!"


	4. Party City

A/N: _Sorry I couldn't update yesterday. I got totally swamped with homework and then fell asleep. I just realized that now I have to write Toni's birthday...or not...yeah, I dunno. And I don't own Hetalia or Party City._

**Warning: Genderbending Ahead**

_~~~~Chapter 3~~~~_

_~~Party City~~_

"Well, now that we've salvaged that screwed up relationship…"

Antonio pouted, "Lovi! Don't say things like that! I didn't give up on our screwed up relationship!"

Lovina rolled her eyes as she pushed open to door to Party City and stopped dead in her tracks.

Holy juicy tomatoes of red-loving goodness.

She was blind. _Blind_.

Lovina stumbled back, shielding her eyes.

"I did not just see that! I did not just see that! I did _not_ just see that! I did not just-!"

Antonio tuned out his girlfriends agonized chant, peering around her to the inside of the store.

Pink.

_Everywhere_.

In frills and lace and sparkles and glitter and so many hearts and silk bows it sort of made him want to gag.

But worst of all was Francis.

Completely nude save a pink lacy bow covering his…_ahem_…vital regions.

Kiku snapped a picture of Lovina's horrified expression and disappeared.

"I-I really didn't ever ever ever ever EVER need to see that," Lovina muttered, still trying to drown herself in brain bleach.

"Here, this way."

Lovina glanced around for a minute at the familiar voice before remembering the AH MY EYES CLOSE YOUR EYES QUICKLY HOLY CRAP AH THEY BURN THE HOROR WHY WHY WHY?!

A familiarly callused hand gripped her smaller one and pulled her in the vague left-ish direction.

When Lovina finally opened her eyes he found herself in a marginally less...scarring...aisle occupied by herself, Antonio, Matilda and two other nations, one with short brown hair pulled into a pony tail, the other pouting fabulously.

"Like, omigosh," the fabulous nation whined, "Lizzy and I spent like, so much time on that display and now that ass face with like, no fashion sense is totally ruining it with his tiny di-"

The other nation clamped her hand over Poland's mouth and gave the others and apologetic look.

"Sorry," Elena or the human representation of Lithuania said calmly, "He gets a little carried away."

Feliks continued to complain behind the hand.

"We'll be going now," Elena assured, steering Feliks towards the exit.

The three remaining nations watched them silently.

"If they aren't together," Lovina said slowly, "Something in this world is definitely off."

Matilda and Antonio nodded in agreement.

"So, why are you here again?" Lovina asked looking skeptically at the Canadian.

Matilda smiled, "Because I wanted to thank you. Without talking to you I'd probably still be in a dead end relationship with my father figure."

Lovina glared pointedly at Antonio who laughed sheepishly.

"I know the feeling," the Italian snorted.

"We're here to find tomato decorations!" Antonio exclaimed helpfully.

Matilda looked puzzled before glancing at Lovina for an explanation.

"For my Valentines party," she clarified.

"You're throwing a Valentines party?"

"Shit. Um…yes?"

"So, yes or no?"

"Yes. Unfortunately. Francis dared me into it."

"Maple."

Antonio's eyes suddenly widened.

"Quick!" he exclaimed, "Hide any exposed skin!"

The two girls had just enough time to give him a confused "What?" before a very dangerous brunette with several tissues stuffed up her nose entered the aisle.

"Ha!" Eliza exclaimed, "I told you I heard sexy Spanish in this direction!"

Rodrich nodded complacently.

"H-hungary!" Lovina yelped, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was helping Po-bear with the display (did you like the lace? That was my idea~) but then I spotted some gorgeously adorable Nordics," she stuffed another tissue into her nose as the memory of the Nordics caused more blood to trickle down the Hungarian's face, "And then Kiku found me and told me you two were on your way! And I get a bonus of cute whoever-this-is on the side~!"

Matilda sighed heavily.

"I've told you. I'm Ca–"

"That's fantastic dear. Now would one of you like to take off your shirts?"

Antonio shrugged like this was a normal request (it was) and was halfway done by the time Lovina violently yanked his shirt down.

"We'll pass on that one," she scowled.

Eliza turned her gaze on Matilda.

"What about you dear?" she asked suggestively.

Matilda's eyes widened momentarily.

"B-but, I lost Kumawhacha and I really need to find him, actually–," she protested, but Eliza was already dragging the girl off.

"A-and I need to meet Gil in an hour and–"

"Ooh~ for a date?"

"No! For dinner!"

"Sounds like a date~!"

"B-but, Kumakiro–!"

"What's your name again hun?"

"I'm Canada!"

"Who?"

"KUMAKICHI!"

Lovina and Toni watched the blonde disappear to her cosplay doom before turning to Rodrich, who was studying some piano-shaped candles.

"Shouldn't you be following her?" Antonio asked slowly.

Rodrich didn't respond.

This process repeated until Lovina finally yanked on the sleeve of the Austrian's jacket.

Rodrich turned; looking bored and pulled out ear buds that spewed loud, classical music.

"Elizabeta left," he noted.

Toni and Lovina nodded wordlessly.

The Austrian gave a longsuffering sigh before looking at the two Mediterranean nations.

"I should probably de-bug you, then."

"Huh?"

Rodrich quickly started pulling things off of their hair and clothes, collecting a pile of black mics in the palm of his hand.

"H-how…?" Lovina muttered.

"A CAMERA WOMAN NEVER REVEALS HER SECRETS! C'MON, RODDY, I HAVE A NEW VICTIM- ER, MODEL!"

The dark haired man nodded to Lovina and Antonio before elegantly moving towards his wife.

Shaking her head as if it would rid her mind of all the horrifying images she had just witnessed, Lovina turned to keep searching for tomato-themed decorations.

Rounding the corner into what must be the birthday party section, Lovina stopped dead for the second time that day.

"HAHA YOU JERK OF JERKS! I HAVE CONQUERED THE PARTY CITY! BOW TO ME!"  
"Peter, would you please put your pants back on–?"

"J'st l'v'm b', w'f. H'll p't'm b'ck 'n wh'n h's r'dy."

"I told you, I'm a _man_!"

Peter, for some odd reason pant-less, revealing blue oceanic boxers with multi-colored fish on them, stood proudly in the middle of the aisle.

Birthday paraphernalia was scattered everywhere, with a very distressed looking Tino and a…stoic looking Berwald standing by.

"Oh, hello," Tino smiled at Lovina and Antonio (who was trying valiantly to get Lovina to uncover her eyes, "Lovi, he's just a kid!" "I swear, the next man I come across who refuses to wear pants will no longer need them!" "Lovi, that's not very cute." "You're not cute." "But, Lovi~!")

"What's up?" Toni asked finally, leaving his girlfriend to her distressed mutterings.

"That British jerk won't tell me when my birthday is!" Peter announced, "So I'm making it up! EVERY DAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!"

Antonio looked confused.

"Do you know when you became independent?" The Spaniard asked slowly.

Peter's eyebrows drew together in concentration.

"Of course I do! September 2, 1967!"

"Then…that's your birthday," Antonio said patiently, smiling, "Like, mine is February twelfth (that's in just a few days~!) and Lovi and Feli's is March thirteenth!"

Peter's blue eyes were confused for a second before widening as he grinned broadly.

"ALL RIGHT THEN! I KNOW WHEN MY BIRTHDAY IS!"

Antonio laughed before something occurred to him.

"Have you three seen any tomato decorations?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!" Tino smiled, "There's a whole produce aisle, oddly enough."

"M' w'f' 's s' h'lpf'l."

"I'm a man."

"Dad! Mum! Let's go!"

"I'M A MAN!"

Antonio glanced in the aisle ender labeled 'produce' and immediately recognized the red fruit.

"Well. Would you look at that~."


	5. Scottish Advice

A/N: _Updating before school, yay~_

_Sorry if this chapter is super lame, I didn't have any magical funny bird to help me and it sort of died._

**Warning: Genderbending Ahead**

_~~~~Chapter 4~~~~_

_~~Scottish Advice~~_

"_Yeah, so…dun be too mad…but–_"

"Don't be mad? What the hell are you thinking, Alistair? You're- you're a bloody country! You can't just go getting married! Have you even talked to your Boss about it or–?"

Alistair sighed heavily on the other side of the phone, "_O' course I talked to me Boss. Calm down, lass. You've been married too, ain't cha?_"

Alice stuttered at the memory.

"That was different," she assured her older brother.

Alistair barked a laugh, "_Cause it was with a lass?_"

Flushing, the Brit attempted to regain some of her composure.

"T-that's…not the point…" she muttered.

"_There was a point?_"

Growling in frustration, Alice briefly considered kicking the wall.

Then she re-considered because that was a really stupid idea and she didn't feel like giving Alfred any of her money to pay for repairs.

So she punched it instead.

"_Dija jus punch a wall?_"

"What if I did?"

"_Never mind. I dun care what'cha do with yer hotel rooms. But could you let me in? I'm gettin' some weird looks ou' here."_

Alice walked swiftly to her window, pulling aside the curtains to find a sheepish (well, as sheepish as the Scotsman could look) Alistair, his shirt un-tucked and halfway unbuttoned, tie hanging loosely around his neck.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!"

"_Umm…I dun know how to answer that, exactly. But, long story shorter, I'm here fer you to let me into yer room and hide me from…Mathias."_

"Mathias?" Alice looked skeptically at her older brother, "Why do you need hiding from Denmark?"

"_Well, as I mentioned earlier, I proposed to his sister–"_

"You proposed to Norway?! You _do_ know they're dating, right–?"

"_Not Norway, dumb-ass,"_

Alice pouted.

"_Freya. Iceland."_

"Not ringing a bell."

"_The silver haired girl who doesn't talk a lot but sounds like a bitch when she does?"_

"Oh, her. She owes me money."

"_Dun they always._"

"Wait- you proposed to Iceland?"

"_…din I jus say that? I did jus say that, right? I'm not goin crazy am I?"_

"No, you git, you're not, but it just seems…random."

"_Shad up. I dun wanna hear from you about romance_."

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm more romantically successful than you."

"_Like shit in another universe you are."_

"What does that–?!"

"_Whatever, can you let me in? This is really awkward and I keep feeling like Mat's gonna come round the corner any time now with that freaky-ass ax o' 'is."_

…

"I'll make dinner."

"No way! I'm not eating yer cooking!"

"Well that's bloody fantastic for you. I'm making dinner."

"I'm the guest. I'll make dinner. (and I prefer not to be poisoned so early in the day…)"

"What was that, wanker?"

"I said yer cooking's shit!"

"Wha-! I'll have you know, plenty of people love my cooking."

"Yeah. Plenty of nuclear scientists."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like, Iggy."

"DON'T YOU START THAT TOO!"

"Alfred seems to like it, little bastard."

Alistair looked up when Alice didn't respond.

She was looking at her hands, a strange light in her eyes.

"Alice?" Alistair asked softly.

The Brit seemed to snap out of her stupor.

"Does Chinese sound all right?" she asked suddenly, turning to the door and grabbing her purse.

Alistair nodded, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"I'll be back in an hour or so!"

The door slammed behind her.

Alistair shrugged, wandering over to fridge and wondering if his sister had any booze.

Just before the Scotsman could retrieve anything someone started committing door-murder with their fist.

"Alice, did you forget something-? Oh."

Alistair's eyes widened at the sight of the tall American.

"Umm…'ello," the Scot said slowly.

Alfred looked just as surprised; "This is Iggy's room, right?"

Alistair nodded and leaned against the doorframe.

"Aye, I'm jus hiding out here," the red head grinned, "Wot'cha need?"

Alfred sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"It's kind of a long story," he admitted.

"I like long stories."

…

"_Roses?_ Are you shitting me?"

"W-well, Toni said it was a good idea and–"

"Dumbass, do you know what roses mean?" Alistair demanded.

Alfred sighed, "Well, I do _now_."

"All right, listen up," Alistair said, shifting in his chair to cross his legs, "Yer gotta do this properly if you dun wanna be murdered. Cause trust me when I say Alice Kirkland ain't an easy catch. Jus ask Frenchie."

Alfred leaned in closer, his eyes widening.

"How?" he asked eagerly.

"Well, you start with–,"

"I'm home! Alistair, you better not have drunk all of my–"

Alice stopped, staring at the American in her living room as if he had dropped from outer space.

"…And, I was just leaving," Alfred said quickly, standing and practically running to the door.

Alistair waved mildly from his chair as the American disappeared behind th hotel door.

"What was that?" Alice demanded.

The Scot laughed, "The US of Friggin A, duh."


End file.
